


Life After Death

by BayKitCat



Series: Wake Up [1]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Birds of Prey (Comic), Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Finding out how to live without Bruce, Grief/Mourning, Grieving/Healing, Heavy Angst, I'm gonna shut up now because I don't want to give too much away, Original Villains kind of, They're based on Peter Pan & the Lost Boys, i love this fam, it's sad and sweet, oh hey forgot to mention; Bruce dies, that's kind of important
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 20:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16182917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BayKitCat/pseuds/BayKitCat
Summary: Bruce dies on a mission leaving the family in a grieving state. lost memories resurface. A Mysterious band of Criminals shows up in Gotham, promising broken children the gift of forgetting their pain. They must stand strong against them...but can they after everything that's happened?





	Life After Death

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy!!

  
Dick was pacing. He was waiting on news from Red Robin about Bruce, and couldn't help but worry about his father. He knew the fear wasn't rational. Bruce had gone out only a day before. He’d had missions before where he'd be gone for weeks on end and come back fine. There was just something about Bruce's most recent mission that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. His stomach a cauldron of emotions, brewing and bubbling viciously... his head throbbing, and his heart beating rapidly. It all took a sickening lurch from Red Robin's words over the comms.  
“I've found him,” Tim whispered, voice hoarse.  
“And?” Came Damian's voice from beside Dick, not seeming to notice that something was wrong.  
When Tim spoke next, there was no denying the strain in his voice. He sounded as if on the verge of tears as he sputtered out  
“H-h-he's dead.”  
Dick collapsed onto the floor and reached out to Damian, pulling his kid brother into a hug.  
As he held his youngest brother in his arms, a memory played in his head. A memory he barely recognized.

Dick was sitting at the cave's computer, Tim's voice echoing around his head.  
“You said we'd be okay,” He said, his voice shaking, “My entire life has burnt down! Again! I don't call this 'okay’, Dick.”  
He didn't know what to say. Dick himself felt lost and scared. He didn't know how to help his brother who was more lost and scared than he was.  
“He's my responsibility, now. You're not my protege, Tim... you're my equal. My closest ally. You'll be okay.” He paused, a quick glance toward his brother, before continuing “But him...Tim, you know better than anyone that left on his own, he's going to kill someone. Again. You have to understand-”  
“No I don't.” Tim cut off, his voice breaking at 'don’t’ “This is all I have now.”  
A new voice broke the silence between the brothers, a mocking, scathing voice that could only belong to a younger Damian.  
“Oh, are you still here?” he sneered, wearing his usual snarky smile.  
Dread filled the pit of his stomach. Damian couldn't be here. Tim wouldn't stay if Damian would keep insulting him.  
He watched as Tim slowly turned toward their younger brother, disdain written on his face.  
“You have got to be kidding me.”  
Damian grinned again  
“We’ll have to upgrade security in the cave, Batman. Keep out the riff-raff.”  
Tim looked to Dick, his nostrils flaring and his eyes hard.  
“How can you let him wear that costume, Dick? What Earth are we on that you choose him over me?”  
Before he could reply, Damian jeered again  
“Don't be so sensitive, Drake.”  
He just couldn't help himself could he? He couldn't keep his mouth shut for once and let Dick tell Tim that things were going to be okay. Even without Bruce.  
“Damian, shut up. Now.” He hissed, hoping that Damian would listen. Of course not.  
“Sorry, Drake. You're still part of the team- maybe the Batgirl costume is still available!”  
Tim turned on a dime, swinging his fist blindly, and punching Damian right in the jaw.  
“My name is Tim Wayne!” He yelled, a few tears spilling out of his eyes.  
Dick immediately grabbed his arms back, warning him to back off.  
On the floor, Damian smiled yet again.  
“I let you get that shot in, Drake. I want you to feel good about yourself...God knows you don't have any other reason!”  
Tim freed his arm from Dick's grasp, his features telling a story of betrayal  
“You want me to back off? Fine.”  
As Tim stormed off, Dick called out after him  
“He’s gone, Tim. You have to accept it. Things have to change. But I still need you.”  
Tim didn't respond, and the memory faded out into darkness.  
_____________________________________

Tim couldn't breathe. His father was dead. Still in his arms, and he couldn't breathe, couldn't move. He was barely able to get the words out to Dick and Damian to tell them. His eyes burned and he didn't know what to do. He wanted to get as far away from Bruce's body as he could, yet he kept holding on, forcing himself into believing that he wasn't really dead. If he held on long enough, maybe Bruce would hug him back, tell him everything would be alright. It definitely was not alright.

Tim did not move for what felt like an hour. He only moved when Jason arrived and pried him away from Bruce. He spoke to Tim, probably trying to lighten the mood with his dark humor, but Tim didn't hear him. He sat on the ground, paralyzed with shock. He could barely feel the tears rolling down his cheeks. He wasn't even there, his mind stuck in a tidal wave of memories. The memories crackled in and out of his vision, blurred and fading.

They were memories of a forgotten year, full of pain, grief, and healing. They were broken and barely recognizable, but they sparked so much emotion. The pain of feeling alone in the world; the joy of reconnecting with friends and family; the journey of healing. There were people who looked familiar but he couldn't put names to. A girl with dark skin, black hair, and brown eyes. Another girl who wore the Wonder insignia.

When Tim woke up, he was in the passenger seat of the Batmobile. He felt weak and his throat stung from crying. He looked over at Jason, whose jaw was set. An obvious indication that he was trying to hold back his emotions.  
“Welcome back Timbo,” He remarked, eyes still glued to the road.  
“Did I pass out?”  
“Yes. You did- well... your eyes were open the whole time. It was like you were somewhere else. You talked 'bout some people as well. Tam and Cassie, I think. Have you made some new friends recently?”  
Tim shook his head, in a numb daze.  
“No. I-I don't even know anyone named Tam...or anyone I call Cassie. I did... I did dream though. It was like I was watching a year playback in my head. Everything was blurred and fading.”

Tim looked out the window. He tried to focus on the autumn landscape to get his mind off of the growing uneasy feeling in his stomach, and the crushing tightness in his chest.  
It didn't work. He couldn't get his mind off it. Couldn't get his mind off of what had happened. His mind kept jumping to the exact thing he wished he could ignore.

Over and over and over again. Running into the stockyard, eyes falling on Bruce's lifeless body as his heart hammered in his chest. The pain in his chest that grew as he staggered toward his adoptive father. The tears spilling from his eyes and down his cheeks.  
“Nothing will ever be the same, Jason. Bruce is gone. What...what are we going to do?”  
The car stopped. Jason turned to him, hands shaking.  
“I don't know. A few days ago I really wanted him dead... and now...”  
His chest tightened even more. Ignoring it, he slowly spoke.  
“Jason, you can't be blaming yourself.”  
He swatted the comment aside, and turned back to the steering wheel.  
“I'm not. Trust me.”  
They didn't speak for the rest of the ride home. Tim just stared out the window, going over what had happened over and over in his head. If he'd just come sooner then maybe….  
_____________________________________

He sat in a chair beside Dick’s bed, shaking as an overwhelming feeling of emptiness engulfed him. Since Dick was still asleep, he figured it would be alright to let out his thoughts.  
“Grayson…?” He started, voice shaking “Father’s dead. Todd and Drake are bringing him back as I speak...and...and I don't know what I'm supposed to feel or think. ”his words were met with an expected yet disheartening silence. He laughed bitterly at himself.  
“It's almost as though I thought you would answer my thoughts. Ridiculous. Talking to you while you're asleep is just as pointless as praying to God,”  
Damian then started to stand up, paused, and sat back down again. As much as it hurt him to be there, he wanted to know what had happened in the cave. He also wanted to be there for his brother, although he'd never admit it.

Not too much later, Alfred opened the door of the room to find Damian reading Crime and Punishment silently. The man cleared his throat, surprising Damian and making him drop his book. silently grabbed the book off the floor, Damian straightened himself, and greeted Alfred.  
“Pennyworth. Are Todd and Drake back?”  
The butler nodded solemnly. As Damian looked at him he noticed the man's red, puffy eyes. He had been crying. As made to leave,Damian stopped him, grabbing his arm gently.  
“Are you alright?” He asked, brows knitting together with worry.  
Alfred smiled stiffly, obviously not wanting to worry his grandson “I'm fine Master Damian. Now, we should call 911.”  
With that, he went out of the room. Leaving Damian to hurry out after him.

They rushed into the Batcave, where Tim and Jason stood talking in hushed voices. That is, until Damian and Alfred came in. Alfred quickly put a phone into Jason's hands and started walking out of the cave, only looking back to say:  
“call 911 and inform them of Master Bruce’s death. I will let the superhero community know myself.”

As soon as Alfred had left the cave, Jason threw the phone to Damian. The young teenager glared at Jason for a moment.  
“Why did you give this to me?” He hissed, the phone shaking in his hands.  
A bitter laugh escaped Jason as he looked at Damian, shaking with grief and nerves.  
“Kid, I’m legally dead,” he took a breath, closing his eyes briefly. “So call 911.”

Damian tapped the four digits into the phone, then put the phone up to his ear. After a moment, an operator’s voice came through.  
“911, what is your emergency?”  
Damian froze. He shook and spluttered into the phone, trying to speak. He couldn’t.  
In his moment of terror, Jason snatched the phone from his hand, pushing the phone up to his ear harshly.  
“My Father, Bruce Wayne, was dropped on the Manor's doorstep. He's been badly beaten, and we fear that he's dead.” Jason told the operator as he glared at Damian.  
“ What was that, kid? You just, froze.” he hissed  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Damian retorted, walking away.

He lumbered to his room, cursing himself. He couldn’t do it. Why couldn’t he do it? It was a simple call. Inform authorities of his father’s death, then leave the cave and mourn in peace.  
He flopped down on his bed, only to land on a bulky package. He flipped on to his back, taking the package in his hands and examining it.

It was a present, with a sticky-note attached, reading; _I know we haven't been spending much time together as of late, with my Justice League missions, and you spending most of your time with the Teen Titans - let's start making up for that._

Damian didn't open it - he couldn't open it. He didn't want to think about his father. Didn't want to think about the fact that his father was dead, that he didn't get to say goodbye, that he had been consciously going against everything his father believed in for months.  
He got up and stuffed the package into his bedroom closet, unwanted tears seeping out his eyes.


End file.
